


Truthfulness

by RufusThePup



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Shower Sex, Watersports, no drunken sex i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:12:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RufusThePup/pseuds/RufusThePup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons admits a fetish of his during a night of drinking, and Grif isn't sure if he's serious. But he intends to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truthfulness

Simmons was a funny drunk. 

...Most of the time. 

More often than not he just got too personal. Sometimes that meant delving into his past and bringing up hurtful memories, almost like he was trying to make himself cry. 

But sometimes they could have fun with it, like the time Donut joined them for a drink, making his usual comments (something along the lines of “I can keep going after round one!” when asked if he should keep drinking), only for Simmons to call him out. The look of confusion and embarrassment on Donut's face was one Grif could never forget. 

This was another one of those times, where they were having fun. 

It was almost as though Simmons' inhibitions had never existed in the first place. It was refreshing to hear him cackle loud enough to echo through the base, to hear him talk about a dream he had involving his childhood dog walking into a bar, to hear him indulge Grif in his philosophical musings. 

Grif wished their relationship could be like this all the time. 

“Y'know what I really want, Grif?” Simmons slurred, slumping down and resting his chin in one hand.

“What do you really want?” 

“I really wanna be pissed on.” 

Grif nearly chokes on his next mouthful of booze. 

At first he thinks it's a joke. He laughs, but Simmons looks very needy and wanting. 

“Why... do you want that?” 

Simmons shrugs, “I see it all the time in porn.” 

“What kinda porn are you watchin'?” Grif chuckles a little, but Simmons doesn't crack a smile. 

“The good kind,” Simmons does, however, give a lopsided grin at his own answer, though it quickly fades. “I bet it's really warm...” 

His face grows flushed, and Grif isn't sure it's due to the alcohol anymore. “Is it a fetish for you?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” The red-haired man gazes forlornly into his half empty glass before tossing it back. 

For a moment Grif wonders if he's serious. 

“I gotta get to bed, man.” Simmons announces, standing on shaking legs and pausing to gather himself. In that brief pause, Grif is able to see the outline of his erection through his slacks. 

Okay, yeah, he's serious. 

-

He had to find out if Simmons' fetish was for real, and not just something he was saying because he was drunk. 

“ _Man_ , I gotta piss.” 

And he didn't intend to be subtle about it. 

“Wh—don't do it here!” Simmons shrieked from his shower stall. 

“Why not? It goes right down the drain.”

“It's unsanitary!” 

“Where would you rather I piss—on _you_?” The last part was said before Simmons could answer, and it made him shut up awfully quick. 

Simmons' eyes went wide, and he quickly averted his gaze. Grif's smug grin only grew as he leaned against the wall separating their showers. 

“...How did you—”

“You told me.”

“When?” 

“When we were drinkin'.” 

Grif hears him mutter “son of a bitch” under his breath.

“So, we gonna do this?” 

“Do what?”

“I've got a full bladder and you've got a fetish, so do you wanna make this happen? Make up your mind fast—I've been holdin' it since this morning.” 

Simmons tries to articulate words while Grif invites himself into his shower stall. It's cramped, and the lankier man is pressed to the back wall, hands shielding his semi arousal. 

“Don't tease me, Grif,” is the first thing he's able to mutter out, burning red from the tips of his ears down to his neck. 

“I wouldn't. But first...” Grif reaches out and lightly traces down Simmons' jawline, making him shiver. 

“I thought... you had to go?” Simmons gasps. 

“There's always time for foreplay.”

With that, Grif pulls him closer and kisses him. The moment taken to test the waters lasts only a second before Simmons is leaning into his touch, hands grasping at the heavier man's broader shoulders. 

Their lips move together with more increasingly desperate motions, and Simmons is the first to introduce tongue. Grif's hands roam down his body, but Simmons seems focused on kissing. Grif's the one to pull away. 

“Another fetish of yours?” He says it mostly in jest, but it seems he's not too far off. 

“Shut up—kiss me.” He goes in for another kiss, but Grif pulls back. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, for this.” 

Simmons is breathless and fully hard, his hands curling into fists on Grif's shoulders. “I want—just, piss in my face. Right in my face—I wanna feel it dripping down, all over me, please—”

Grif kisses him once more to cut him off, then puts a hand on him and urges him down to his knees. 

The water still raining down on them from the shower head has long since run cold, and Grif turns it off. He answers Simmons' questioning look with “I want you to feel it all.” 

The phrase makes Simmons visibly shudder. He moves a hand to touch himself and closes his eyes, face pointed at Grif. The last intelligible thing he says, amongst a sea of breathy whispers, is “Do it, do it...” 

Grif takes his cock in his hand and aims. There's a moment's hesitation, and he tries to relax his body into letting go. The seconds that tick by seem to last an eternity before he's finally able to, a few stray drops turning to a steady stream with an audible groan. 

Grif peeks his eyes open to glance down, and smirks at the sight. 

Simmons sits with his eyes clenched shut, his lips pursed, and breathing through his nose. His left hand works furiously between his legs, the short moans in his throat growing louder and more prolonged. 

The stream is angled a tad lower, to his chest, and Simmons opens his mouth to exhale and whine. Then it's aimed up too quickly and catches him in the mouth. Simmons squeezes his lips shut again, but is seen swallowing. 

Relief comes too soon and the stream stutters and trickles to a stop. Grif almost feels compelled to apologize, although Simmons doesn't look at all disappointed. 

He stands and grabs Grif with one hand, pulling him into a kiss in a move far too bold for Simmons normally. He still has urine dribbling down his cheeks and on his lips, but Grif reciprocates, even letting their tongues swirl around together. 

Simmons sobs into the kiss, his knees buckling as his orgasm comes crashing down on him. A wet splatter hits Grif's thigh as Simmons breaks the kiss to pant heavily. 

Simmons clings to him for some time as he regains his breath and comes down from his high. Grif is resting his head on his shoulder, and reaches behind him to turn the shower back on. The sudden rush of cold water on his back makes Simmons squeal, and he bats Grif on the arm. 

“Clean up. You're gross.” Grif teases with a peck on the cheek. Simmons tries to hide his smile as he turns to let himself soak. 

Grif stares him up and down with a grin. “You've got freckles on your butt.” 

“ _Grif!_ Shut up! Go back to your stall!” Simmons pushes him out with an embarrassing squawk while Grif giggles. 

The two shower in silence, until Simmons speaks up a little. “Thanks. For that. And for... not making fun of me.” 

“Don't even worry about it, dude. I'd do it again, if you ever wanted me to.” 

_...Well, that's good to know._


End file.
